


i'd tried so not to give in

by jennycaakes



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 05:42:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6788029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennycaakes/pseuds/jennycaakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Soulmates didn’t happen on the Ark. They hadn’t happened for a long time. And if they had, no one was talking about it. But Nathan Miller had one, he knew it by the way his skin filled with marks that didn't belong to him. Monty Green didn't believe in soulmates, so he ignored the signs.<br/>--<br/>“I know what you’re going to say. But, like, I don’t believe in soulmates. I believe in science. So.”</p><p>Miller smirked. “The thing about soulmates is that they exist whether or not you believe in them.” He leaned in, stepping into Monty’s space and leaning toward his ear before whispering, “Kind of like science.”<br/>--<br/>Canon-verse soulmate AU, takes it through season 1 and 2, no City of Light stuff. Minty, background Bellarke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'd tried so not to give in

**Author's Note:**

> well this turned into a beast. it was originally the "whatever you write on your skin shows up on your soulmate's skin" AU but I tweaked it a bit to include bruises, scars, things like that. I hope you like it!!
> 
> title from Frank Sinatra's "I've Got You Under My Skin"

He got dirt under his fingernails. 

Miller would sit there for hours trying to pick it out but there was nowhere it would go. Because it wasn’t under his nails, it was under someone else’s. When his father would catch him and ask what he was doing Miller would lie and hide his hands, ashamed. 

Soulmates didn’t happen on the Ark. They hadn’t happened for a long time. And if they had, no one was talking about it. 

There were horror stories of when the end of the world happened. People on the Ark would get messages carved into their skin from their soulmates on the ground.  _Help us. I’m sorry. I love you_. Red scars that remained until the original grounders died. And once the bombs went off, killing everyone on earth, soulmates disappeared too. 

Mostly it was legend, now. That someone could write something on their hand, get a tattoo, whatever, and it would appear on the body of that person’s soulmate. It hadn’t happened in forever. But Miller wasn’t messing around in the dirt, which meant someone else  _was_. He tried to ignore it, the signs. He tried to write it off as just legend. But he couldn’t.

For a while, it was just the dirt. Caked under his fingernails. And for a while, Miller thought maybe there was someone on Earth still alive. Someone down there who happened to be his soulmate who was playing around in the mud. 

But soon equations started popping up. Numbers and letters, as though whoever it was had run out of paper and needed to get down their thoughts as soon as possible. 

Whenever something new would show up, Miller would stare at it for hours. He would sit back and watch new additions be added onto his skin. He was shit at anything technical but it was entrancing, knowing there was someone  _somewhere_  who was writing on their hands. Someone somewhere who was the other half to Miller. His fingers would run along the ink curiously.

He didn’t tell a soul.

* * *

Monty wasn’t sure how he got the giant bruise on his arm that looked a little bit like a hand print. One day he woke up and it was there, bright and purple. He poked it curiously but it didn’t hurt. It was just… there. 

He measured his own hands against the bruise (too small) and he asked his mother if she remembered Monty walking into something (she didn’t) and overall it was just strange. 

“Maybe you have a soulmate,” his father teased. Monty had heard the stories but he wasn’t sure that he believed them, that soulmates existed. The Greens were very heavily dedicated to science, and tech, and learning. Soulmates just didn’t seem… probable. “Maybe they got in a fight.”

Monty scoffed, but his dad was still smiling. “You can’t tell me you really believe all that,” Monty said. “Soulmates?” 

“I do,” his father said. 

“But you and mom–”

“You don’t have to be soulmates to love someone, Monty,” his father cut him off gently. “There’re photos in the archive of the messages people on the ground carved into their arms when the bombs hit. A force stronger than nature… something out there weaves two people together, bound by… magic? I don’t know if that’s the right word. Fate, maybe.” His father looked thoughtful, and the idea that Monty could have a soulmate was making him… uncomfortable. “Maybe you should write a message on your arm,” his dad said. “See if they respond.”

Monty looked away awkwardly. “It’s just a bruise,” he said.

* * *

Dating felt pointless. 

Miller tried, but no one stuck. He’d pick people apart. There was someone who came close, a boy name Bryan who was from Agro (hence the dirt, maybe), but he stayed as far away from tech as he could get. So there had to be someone else. And maybe it felt lazy, and like cheating, to have a soulmate and to wait for them. 

But Miller was a romantic at heart and he couldn’t help it. It’s like his soul was longing.

Some nights he’d stare at his hands and his arms and wait to see something appear. Numbers, usually, that Miller couldn’t hope to understand. But tonight was different. He knew even before he watched the letters appear on his skin that something was  _different_. 

_H e l l o ?_

Miller traced the letters again and again. Whoever it was, they knew. They knew that there was someone else on the other end of this. Miller had always been so careful not to write on his hands or his arms. Not to give any piece of himself away. Whoever was on the other end of this connection was smart, and curious, and must’ve paid good attention to detail. 

Miller stared at it for hours until it suddenly disappeared in three quick rubs. Miller hadn’t responded. The stranger must’ve thought there was no one there.

* * *

Two days after the Earth Skills classes restarted in the Sky Box, Monty saw writing on his arm. It was faint, and upside-down, as though someone else wrote it. Monty sank into his cell, missing his best friend because they were forced into separate sections of the Sky Box (Monty was in A Box, Jasper was in B), and tried to force himself to sleep.

But that was when he saw the ink.

Frustrated and exhausted Monty’s hands came up to rub it off. He tried, and he tried, and he tried, but it didn’t go anywhere. And he knew at once that this belonged to someone else.

His eyes strained in the dim lighting of his cell as he tried to make it out, faded but definitely there.  _Winter._ And doodles of snowflakes. Monty’s heart somersaulted in his chest. 

It was only a couple of months ago in which he’d scrawled out a message of his own, a message reaching out. Maybe he hadn’t waited long enough for a response. Maybe whoever was there, his  _soulmate_ , hadn’t seen it.

But there  _was_  someone there. There was another half of him, somewhere on the Ark. Maybe taking Earth Skills–maybe  _also_  a delinquent. There was another soul that was reaching out for Monty’s, steps away. Stations away, or maybe just a room over. Whatever. Alive. Here. 

Monty shook his head, trying to sort that information out. It was jumbled in with the rest of the chaos in his mind. Hectic and unsure and just messy. He didn’t know how it worked. But still he brushed his thumb over the snowflake doodle, trying to rub it off of someone else’s skin. 

* * *

Miller was thrown into the Sky Box because he’d been caught in Kane’s office as he was snooping around, trying to figure out why Griffin was thrown into isolation. It had been months after the fact that Griffin was locked up, but Wells was constantly whining about his friend and Miller was curious. He’d stolen before but he’d always been careful, and what he’d wanted that time wasn’t a material possession. It was information. 

Miller loved knowing things. 

When he was told that he was going to the ground, he wasn’t sure how to feel. Part of him was excited, another part terrified. Shoved into a classroom full of other delinquents, taught about the ground, he’d figured it out a long time before Pike attacked Murphy what they were doing with the kids. 

“If the air’s still toxic,” Miller said to Wells as they were forced onto the dropship a few weeks later, following Clarke as she’s pulled by on a stretcher, “then we’re dead.”

Suddenly his eyes caught someone being boarded on a lower level and Miller paused, an unfamiliar tug jerking him in that direction. There was a boy there, one Miller had seen before and knew to be Monty Green despite never conversing, talking animatedly to Jasper Jordan who sat next to Miller in a lot of their Earth Skills classes. Miller couldn’t pull his gaze away. And then Monty stopped abruptly, turning and glancing over his shoulder, catching Miller’s eyes.

The moment felt infinite. 

“I don’t think it will be,” Wells said, pulling Miller back to the present.

* * *

Knowing that Jasper was here, knowing that his best friend was going to the ground with him, was so freeing that Monty felt like he could breathe. He could think about that weird feeling that tugged inside him when his eyes met Nathan Miller’s on the dropship  _later_. 

Hell, everyone knew who Nathan Miller was. They hadn’t had any classes together before Monty was arrested because they were a year apart, and they generally didn’t hang out with the same people. But he’d seen him before.

Something about the moment their eyes met though, it was too much. It was a strange sort of warm.

Monty didn’t want to think about it.

* * *

“You have to get that looked at.” It was Bellamy, gesturing to the rash on Miller’s arm. He frowned at his friend and shook his head, because the rash wasn’t  _his_. They’d been on the earth for all of two days and Monty Green had somehow managed to develop an allergic reaction to something on the ground. It made his skin pink and prickly and covered in hives. Which mean Miller’s skin was also pink and prickly and covered in hives. “Go see Griffin,” Bellamy ordered.

“No.”

Bellamy’s eyes narrowed. Bellamy was “in charge”, but so was Clarke, and it was a weird back and forth. Miller wasn’t sure why Bellamy had chosen him to be his second, but Miller wasn’t complaining. He was a good fighter and it was nice to be recognized for his strengths. Also nice to have a little power.

“Excuse me?” Bellamy asked. He grabbed the hem on Miller’s shirt and tugged him toward the dropship where Clarke had set up all the medical equipment, considering they were frantically working to save Jasper Jordan’s life. “ _Go.”_

Miller grumbled as Bellamy pushed him, but he marched forward anyway. He wasn’t sure what to say.  _Hey Clarke, how was isolation? Glad that no one’s seen you in a year and you’re already in charge of all of us again. Anyway, this isn’t actually my rash, and Bellamy’s acting like my fucking dad._

“Just stop itching it,” Clarke said as Miller entered the dropship. Miller paused, shifting slightly so he could see who was inside, and found Clarke talking to Monty. “If you and Wells want to go looking for–”

“I’m not leaving his side,” Monty said, probably referencing Jasper who’d been speared in the chest the day they arrived. He was back at camp now, dying and dying and dying, and Clarke was trying to take care of him. “He’s my best friend and I haven’t seen him in months and he’s not dying, okay? So I’m not going.”

“Well then you’re going to have to stop itching it,” Clarke said. Miller’s hand reached up to brush the rash on his own arm. “I’ll talk to Wells, and–”

“I’ll go,” Miller said, stepping into the room. Clarke and Monty shifted their eyes to Miller, and Monty immediately looked away. Which was a  _big sign_  for Miller that Monty knew exactly what they were to one another without even having a single conversation. “I’m shit at Earth Skills but Wells is good. I’ll cover his back as he goes flower picking, or whatever.”

Clarke seemed to sigh with relief. “Thanks, Miller.”

“Miller?” Jasper choked from where he was stretched out. Miller’s gaze shifted to the broken boy. A laugh rasped out of Jasper. “Did you ever–ever think all those classes would get us–here?” Jasper coughed, and groaned, and Miller’s heart twisted. 

“Maybe I’ll find you something to smoke,” Miller said to Jasper, who laughed and coughed again in response. Clarke rolled her eyes and Miller gestured to Jasper, “We sat next to each other a lot.” 

“Maybe if you’d paid more attention,” Clarke said pointedly, “then you would be able to help Wells find medicinal herbs instead of just covering him.”

Miller rolled his eyes. “I’ll take that as a thank you,” he muttered.

“Hey!” Before Miller could turn Clarke was starting after him. “You’ve got a rash too! What the hell, Miller?” She latched onto Miller’s wrist, holding out his arm so she could study it. “Jesus, it’s in the same place as Monty’s.” Miller’s eyes flickered across the room to Monty, who hadn’t said a thing since Miller entered, and held the boy’s gaze. “Does it itch?”

“No,” Miller answered, still looking at Monty. “It’s just kind of there.”

Monty looked away immediately, directing his attention to Jasper instead. “Well go get the plants and come back,” Clarke said, dropping his wrist. “So I can fix you up too.” 

* * *

It wasn’t until another day passed did Miller approach Monty. There was intention in his eyes and Monty knew, at once, what Miller was coming to speak with him about. Jasper was on the up and up and Monty felt okay to leave his side, and that was when Miller cornered him. 

“So,” Miller started.

“Listen,” Monty stopped him. Miller stood back, arching an eyebrow and crossing his arms over his chest. “I know what you’re going to say. But, like, I don’t believe in soulmates. I believe in science. So.”

Miller smirked. “The thing about soulmates is that they exist whether or not you believe in them.” He leaned in, stepping into Monty’s space and leaning toward his ear before whispering, “Kind of like science.” 

Being this close to Nathan Miller was doing something to Monty that he didn’t know how to feel about. He felt warmer, more content, but part of him was freaking out and he really didn’t want to be freaking out. The hairs on his arms were standing on edge and his brain wasn’t working correctly. 

“Soulmate or not,” Monty said, “I don’t know you. And you don’t know me.”

Miller leaned back slightly. “Don’t you want to?”

Monty scoffed. “ _No,”_ he stressed. Miller frowned, and confusion flickered in his eyes. “Just because the universe says we’re supposed to be together means you think I’m just going to roll with it?” Monty asked. “I’ve got more important things to do. Like stay alive. And make sure Jasper stays alive.” 

There was something in Miller’s eyes that Monty didn’t like. And then there was a sneer on Miller’s face as he backed away, holding up his hands. “Whatever you say, Green.” 

* * *

Monty got dirt under his fingernails.

It was weird, considering he’d been spending a lot of his time on the ground actually working with technology. When he was younger, living in Agro station, his mom would sit with him and they would pot plants together. She was trying to get him interested in something other than tech because it was rare for an Agro boy to grow up and move to Mecha. It didn’t work, and he didn’t care for planting very much. 

But he had dirt under his fingernails.

After spending a few minutes trying to pick it out Monty realized it wasn’t  _his_. He stood up from where he’d been working and stretched his legs, stepping out of the dropship to try and see what Miller was up to.

Camp wasn’t all that big, and it didn’t take Monty very long to find him. He was seated by the graves, his hands in the dirt as he stared down at a grave that was mostly empty, a grave that belonged to Wells Jaha. Monty shifted uncomfortably, watching Miller from a distance but not wanting to approach him.

“They were friends on the Ark,” he heard. Monty turned to Jasper who swung his arm over his friend’s shoulder. “Both from Alpha.”

“Yeah,” Monty murmured.

“Talked about him a lot, actually,” Jasper said. 

“When did you and Miller become friends enough to know about his life?” Monty asked with a frown.

“We sat next to each other in Earth Skills,” Jasper reminded him with a laugh. “When I got bored I’d draw on his arm, see how long it took him to notice.” Monty’s heart did a little twist, remembering the snowflake doodles he’d seen on his skin that clearly weren’t his. It was strange to know that Jasper had been the one to put them there. “I’m gonna talk to him,” Jasper said, removing his arm from his friend’s shoulder. “Want to come?”

“Uh, no, I–tech,” he said, stepping backwards.

Jasper nodded and started off for Miller. Monty felt like his chest was too tight.

* * *

Miller woke up from his experience on Jobi nuts with his arms covered in marker. He swat at it without thinking, not surprised that it didn’t go anywhere. Because it wasn’t his, of course not.

_If the moon controls the tide then who controls us? Because we, as the tide, conform to the whims of the moon. And with the moon orbiting the earth, are we aliens considering we were in space?_

Miller twisted his arm to read the ramblings from Monty’s mind, high on Jobi nuts, and bit his cheek to keep from laughing. His other arm was covered in equations he knew to be related to gravity and density. Was Monty ambidextrous? Miller would have to ask.

Actually, Miller wouldn’t ask. Because Monty wanted nothing to do with him. 

Miller rummaged through the box of spare clothes to pull on a long sleeved t-shirt, hiding the writing from anyone who would bother to look.

* * *

Monty had made a choice to not interact with Miller, and that was fine. The idea of having a soulmate was terrifying, and like Monty had said he didn’t have time to worry about that anyway, but part of him had ignored this plea and was highly focused on Miller anyway.

To the masses he seemed pretty arrogant. Cocky, rude. A good shot, Bellamy’s second, and just smug in general. That was the vibe that he put out. But Monty had honed in on him and noticed other things too. Miller’s quiet smiles, his hesitation when Bellamy chose someone other than him to cover him, his protective nature of his friends. And part of Monty knew it wasn’t fair for him to just write off Miller completely.

He didn’t expect to start  _caring_  about him.

There was a Grounder attack and Monty’s first thought was of Miller. When the kids came pouring back through the gate and Miller wasn’t with them, Monty went into worry-mode. He spent a better part of an hour trying to get answers out of people without explicitly asking about Miller.

But finally Miller showed his face and Monty practically sprinted to him. 

“Where’ve you been?” Monty asked, his voice slightly more concerned than he wanted it to be. Miller looked as though he’d been drained, his expression tired and his eyes dark. “I was…” Monty trailed off.  _Don’t say worried_. “Looking for you,” he finished, though that wasn’t much better. “I thought you went with the hunting trip.”

“I’ve been talking to the Ark,” Miller said. He reached up to remove his beanie before dragging his hand over his head. “Roma’s parents, Atom’s parents…” he trailed off with a little sigh.

Monty hesitated. Was he hearing him correctly? The worry was draining out of Monty slowly. 

“You talked to their parents?” Monty asked. 

“They deserved to know what happened to their kids,” Miller muttered. “I mean mostly I was just talking to Roma’s parents today, but Atom’s parents popped in again so I talked to them for a bit.”

Monty hesitated again. “ _You_?” he wondered. “Why  _you_?”

“No one  _else_  was volunteering,” Miller snapped. He went to step away but Monty reached out for him. “They deserved to know,” Miller said again, his voice still sharp. “And they were my friends. So.” 

Roma, Atom, Wells. Miller had lost a lot of friends already.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Monty said. “I just–I don’t know.”

“You’ve made assumptions about me,” Miller muttered, “and I don’t fit into your box, and it’s confusing for you. Whatever, Monty.” 

“I didn’t  _mean it_ like that,” Monty insisted. “You just surprised me, is all.” Miller’s eyes climbed up to meet Monty’s and they stared at one another for a few minutes. Guilt hit Monty like a spear through the chest. He hadn’t even given Miller a chance. And Jesus, he was nice to look at. “You should let someone else do it,” Monty said. “You look tired.”

“I’m done for the day anyway,” Miller murmured, reaching up to rub at his eyes. “Unless someone else died today.”

“Not that I know of.” 

“Thank fuck.” Monty laughed a little at that, and something almost like a smile graced Miller’s face. They were quiet a moment. “Hey would you…” Miller started, but stopped. Monty arched an eyebrow and waited for him to continue. “Would you wanna talk to your parents?” Miller asked.

Monty’s face felt warm. “What?”

“I mean you and Raven helped build the system,” Miller said. He looked sheepish. “You should be able to talk to them if you want.”

“Oh. I…” Monty trailed off, annoyed at the blush creeping up his neck. It was a privilege, to talk to the Ark. They weren’t just letting anyone do it. Monty’d been thinking about sneaking in at night to try and talk to his parents, just to see how they were doing. But Miller was offering to take him now? “I mean, if you’re sure?” 

Miller smirked, but still looked sheepish. “I talked to my dad this morning,” he admitted. “I can take you now.”

* * *

Miller stood outside while Monty talked with his parents. He didn’t mind setting it up and letting him talk, even though Monty  _had_ kind of shut him out completely in the beginning. 

Truthfully, Monty was kind. He was good with his hands and he was smart and he was funny and he was  _kind_. And Miller liked him, despite not wanting to. Because who wanted a soulmate that didn’t want you back? Miller, apparently.

So when Monty returned from talking with his parents a little teary-eyed, Miller wasn’t sure how to react. His heart was twisting and his throat felt smaller. “Okay?” Miller asked, and Monty nodded.

“Miller,” Monty said softly. “Thank you.” Miller blinked hard, feeling like  _he_  was the one with teary-eyes. “It really–just, thank you. It was so nice to hear their voices.”

“I’m glad,” Miller choked out. 

* * *

Monty went missing.

Miller didn’t realize how much he really cared about the kid until he went missing. One minute he was there, and the next he was missing, and Miller felt like something had been ripped out of him and he was struggling to breathe. 

“Well where is he?” Miller demanded when Bellamy returned with the news.

“We don’t know,” Bellamy admitted. “It’s all–he’s just  _gone_.”

But he wasn’t gone, Miller knew he was still out there somewhere. He’d be able to feel if Monty was dead, right? That wasn’t part of the soulmate deal but he’d know… wouldn’t he? And then he didn’t have time to think about it anyway. 

Suddenly the war was in full swing. Miller was shot in the arm, was forcing Clarke back into the dropship, was closing the door on Bellamy as the Grounders attacked. And then the ring of fire was at full blast and even from inside the dropship Miller could feel the heat. 

Miller scrubbed at his forehead and waited, and waited, and waited for  _something_  to happen. He wasn’t sure if he felt it or if he was just hopeful, but Miller glanced at his arm to find something written that wasn’t his.

 _Mountain_.

It was written in blood. Hard to read because of the dark room and Miller’s dark skin, but definitely there.

“Clarke,” Miller forced out, striding through the remaining delinquents to reach her. 

“He’s okay,” Clarke rasped, looking at her arms. “He’s okay. If he wasn’t…” she trailed off, looking up at Miller. “What?”

“What?” Miller asked in response. “Who?” He blinked hard, looking at her arms, and then looking at his own. Something suddenly made sense. The bickering, the co-dependency, the co-leadership. “Bellamy,” he said. Clarke blinked a few times before looking at her arms again, neither confirming nor denying this.

“My arms would be burned,” she said. “He’s alive. He got away.”

“ _Clarke_ ,” Miller said, and she dropped her arms. “Look.” He held out his arm to show her the writing. She blinked again before narrowing her eyes. 

“Is that–”

“Monty,” Miller answered.

Clarke’s mouth puckered. “Oh.” She grabbed Miller’s arm, brushing her thumb over the word written in blood.  _Mountain._ It didn’t go anywhere. Was it Monty’s blood? Was he dying? “What does it mean?” she asked.

“I don’t know.” Miller lowered his arm. “Bellamy?” he asked again.

Clarke hesitated. “We should wait until morning to open the door.” Her eyes focused and unfocused. “Are you bleeding? Were you shot? Come here.” Clarke went to work quickly, patching up Miller’s wound while ignoring the elephant in the room. That they both had people. That they both had soulmates. Miller hadn’t even realized he was bleeding so much but when Clarke pointed it out, he suddenly felt light headed. 

“I think I lost a lot of blood,” Miller rasped.

“Sit down,” she scolded him. “You need to rest.” Clarke threw a blanket at him before going around to the other delinquents, checking their wounds and handing them blankets too. She settled back by Miller when she’d made her rounds a few times, checking his wound again. “You’re bleeding through the bandage,” she said.

“I know,” he responded weakly. Clarke kept looking at her arms. “Bellamy?” he asked another time, his voice barely a whisper.

“You can’t die now,” Clarke told him. But he was still bleeding, still bleeding, still bleeding. She put pressure on his wound. Miller blinked hard. “Bellamy,” Clarke confirmed softly, just for him.   _I’m not the only one_ , he thought.  _There are more of us. Soulmates are real, we’re not the only ones_. “Monty?” she asked quietly once most people had settled down. 

“Yeah.” Miller had no reason to lie. And he was dying, Jesus, he was  _dying_. He could feel it. He could feel it. “We don’t talk about it.”

Clarke was still looking at her arms. “Neither do we,” she admitted. 

Miller tried to stay awake. But his eyes were heavy. Heavy. Heavy. “Griffin,” he murmured. 

“Don’t you dare,” she shushed him. “I’m not going to be the last Alpha kid down here, dammit. I’m opening the door.” She reached out her hand for him and he wobbled to his feet, struggling to stand. Harper swooped in and Miller rested his arm over her shoulder as they made their way outside. 

It was crisp. Burned. Everything was burned. “Keep your eyes open,” Harper was saying.

And then there was smoke. Pink. Out of place.

And then there was nothing. 

* * *

Jasper was okay, and Harper was okay, and Fox was okay, and the delinquents were slowly filling the room. His eyes were constantly scanning, scanning, looking for Clarke and Bellamy and Raven and Finn and…  _Miller_. 

Monty had marks on his arm that he knew were Miller’s, one in his shoulder. From a gun. A gunshot wound. And Miller wasn’t making an appearance in Mount Weather, and Monty was worried. Holy crap he was worried, worried. 

“He was bleeding out last time I saw him,” Harper admitted as though she knew something Monty didn’t. “But if they have medical facilities here, then…” she trailed off, hopefully trying to convey a sense of comfort to Monty. It didn’t help much. 

And then Clarke was there, looking healthy and alive and Monty breathed a sigh of relief. “I know you tried to warn us,” Clarke exhaled as Monty held her in his arms, hugging her as tightly as he could. He pulled back, confused. “Miller told me,” she said.

“Is he…?” Monty asked, and Clarke shrugged sadly.

“I don’t know,” she said. “He was shot. I tried bandaging his wound, but he just kept  _bleeding_ …” 

Monty tried not to worry. But he did.

And then Miller was there, looking healthy, looking  _scruffy,_ missing his beanie, and Monty learned to breathe again. Jasper and Harper greeted him with a smile as the girl who brought him out, Maya, murmured something about Miller undergoing multiple surgeries.

Monty just stared. Because he was there, he was there, he was there. 

Miller watched him too, hesitant, lingering back, and Monty slowly closed the distance to him. He reached out with his hand and grabbed Miller’s squeezing once. “You’re okay,” he said softly.

Miller nodded. “So are you,” Miller murmured back. 

Monty nodded. He didn’t want to let go of Miller’s hand. “I was worried,” Monty admitted.

“I never thought I’d hear  _that_ ,” Miller said with a smirk. Monty squeezed his hand again. They were quiet. Their friends were watching them. How many of them knew? Jasper hadn’t said anything to him, and Jasper would be quick to call Monty out on something like a  _soulmate_. “Me too,” Miller said quietly.

Monty didn’t want to get go of his hand. So he didn’t.

* * *

When Clarke went missing from Mount Weather, Miller knew something was wrong. Clarke wouldn’t just  _leave_. There was more to it he just didn’t know what, and he didn’t know where to start. 

“We shouldn’t tell them,” Miller murmured to Monty one evening. They were in the dining area eating cake which was delicious and Miller was still thinking about Clarke. “President Wallace. About you and me.” 

“Why not?” Monty asked.

“We just shouldn’t.” 

Monty shrugged. “Okay.” He cut a piece of cake and extended it in Miller’s direction. “Try this,” he said. Miller arched an eyebrow but opened his mouth, taking the bite slowly as Monty fed it to him. There was something like mischief in his eyes and Miller swallowed it. “Good?” Monty asked.

“Mmhm.” 

Miller licked his lips. Monty watched. 

Miller wasn’t thinking about Clarke anymore. Because maybe something  _was_  wrong, Clarke wouldn’t just  _leave_. And if she was in some sort of facility, they’d let them see her. So something was off. But Monty was looking at him now like he was the moon, bright and fascinating, and Miller couldn’t look away. 

Because for the moment, they were safe. They had clothes and beds and Grounders weren’t trying to kill them and they had cake and  _Monty was looking at him_. 

“I’m sorry,” Monty suddenly said. Miller’s eyebrows came together as he waited for an explanation as to why. “For shutting you out like I did. When we first found out.” 

Miller’s face felt warm. He looked down at Monty’s cake and shrugged. “I get it.” 

“If it happens,” Monty said. “If you and me happen, then I don’t–I didn’t want it to be because of  _that_. I wanted… other reasons.”

Miller dipped his head into a nod. “Do you have them now?” he asked. “Other reasons?” 

Monty was looking at Miller’s mouth again before his own quirked into a smile. “Maybe,” Monty admitted. “I guess you’ll have to stick around and find out.”

“Ah, he’s got jokes,” Miller said as he sat back in his seat, reveling in the way that Monty’s smile grew. “Good thing I’m not going anywhere.”

* * *

Miller thought that Monty would make a pretty good thief.

He got them into Wallace’s office so they could snoop, and it was only because of Monty’s skill with tech did they even make it that far. 

They worked in tandem with one another by the desk as Jasper goofed off with swords, and Miller felt like maybe there was something else about soulmates that people didn’t talk about. Like, the skin thing, that was real obviously. But there was a certain energy there too just between the two of them.

Miller broke into the drawers and found schematics as Monty hacked the computer to find the photos of the Ark. They worked well together and left the office, confused at Harper’s absence and slightly worried but also relieved that they’d found  _something_  to go off of. 

Jasper went off with Maya and then Monty and Miller were alone again, looking at the schematics that Miller had found.

“If Alpha’s on the ground,” Miller said, thinking about his father, “then maybe others are too.” 

“You’re from Alpha,” Monty said, “right?”

“My dad was chief guard,” Miller said, dipping his head into an nod. Miller’s eyes dropped to the schematics and he sighed slightly, shaking his head. “He sure loved having a thief for a kid.”

“ _Hey_ ,” Monty said with feeling. “You’re a  _great_  thief.” Miller’s smile transformed into a laugh and he shook his head slightly. Soulmate or not, Monty had a way of making him feel warm. He was waiting to look back in Monty’s direction until the boy said something, and when he didn’t Miller turned to look at him anyway. “Miller,” he said softly, his voice dropping. 

Miller’s lips parted. “Yeah?” 

Monty lowered the schematics in his hands and Miller’s eyes flickered down. “Miller,” he said again, his eyes on Miller’s mouth. “Don’t do that.” 

Miller shook his head. “What?”

Before Monty could answer there were footsteps. The two of them startled, shoving the schematics somewhere else. Miller never got an answer.

* * *

Monty was snatched.

It was his own fault, really. He was being supremely stupid. But they’d found the wire to connect them to the outside world, and Miller had made big ass innuendos at him, and Monty already felt like today had been a victory. He was living on a high. So he wore some work gear, and he hacked into Mount Weather’s system, and he allowed their message to go through.

And he was snatched.

Monty was wincing at the sound of Harper’s scream, the hissing of a drill, and dug his nail into his arm. He clawed at himself so hard that he bled, writing it again and again and again.  _Tsing, Tsing, Tsing._ And he shook the gate. And he pled for them to take him instead of Harper. And he wrote it again  _Tsing, Tsing, Tsing_. 

Tsing had taken them, Tsing was drilling into them. 

Monty squeezed his eyes shut and thought of Miller’s smile to get him through the night.

* * *

“But how do you  _know_ ,” Maya asked again as Miller insisted that Monty wasn’t okay, that Harper wasn’t okay. “You can’t make accusations like that.”

“I know you’re worried too,” Miller snapped. “The two of them just went  _missing_.” Jasper was pacing, dragging his hands through his hair. “I know you trust your people, but you’ve got to trust me, Maya. Tsing  _has them_.” 

Maya looked to Jasper who was still pacing, who still didn’t know what to believe. “If you can’t tell me why you think that,” Maya said, “then I can’t go to President Wallace.”

“He told me,” Miller grit out.

Jasper finally paused. “What?” he asked. “You talked–what?  _How_?”

Miller caved. He pushed up his sleeve and showed them the marks on his arms. Not from his own hand. “Because he’s my fucking soulmate,” Miller said.

* * *

Maya said it was too dangerous for Miller to go (“Don’t tell them about you,” she whispered in the dark. “They’ll do more tests.”) so he paced the dorms. He paced and he paced and he paced. Miller wasn’t sure how long it was before Monty and Harper finally returned, weak and unsteady in their step. 

Seeing him was like remembering how to breathe. He didn’t sprint to him but that’s just because his feet were solid on the ground. He watched as Monty limped in, escorted by Jasper, and remained frozen. Once Monty was sitting on the edge of a bed and Jasper had made sure he was okay, Miller finally stepped toward him.

One step, two, and then he was speeding through the dorm to Monty’s side. Miller’s hands reached out, cupping Monty’s cheeks before he’d even sat in the space beside him, holding his face in his hands just so he could look at him. Just so he knew that he was there. Monty blinked hard as Miller’s hands moved, cupping and re-cupping, unable to settle. And then Monty’s hands were circled around Miller’s wrists, and then Miller was tugging him into his arms. 

Monty ended up with his nose against Miller’s collarbone, Miller ended up with his nose in Monty’s hair. 

They breathed each other in. “Thank you, thank you,” Monty was saying it again and again, his breath hot against Miller’s neck. Miller just held him closer, too overwhelmed to say anything in response. 

* * *

Their freedom was short lived, but it tasted so sweet anyway.

There was hardly a day between President Wallace telling them to pack their things and his asshole son taking charge and locking the delinquents up. But those hours of freedom, of hope, they existed. 

Monty kissed Miller on the mouth. 

Miller’d been helping a couple of the younger ones pack their stuff while Monty rested but he came over and checked on Monty frequently. Monty was still a little sore but he pushed himself to his feet, walking a little in the direction that Miller was fretting. He leaned against a nearby wall and waited for Miller to pass.

“For starters,” Miller said when he finally caught Monty’s eye, “you should be resting.” He strode in Monty’s direction confidently and Monty smirked a little, his eyes drifting up and down Miller’s body just once. Soulmate, this was Monty’s soulmate. “And also,” Miller murmured, dropping his voice a little and shooting a look toward the door, “aren’t you worried?”

“Worried?” Monty echoed. “About what? They’re letting us go.”

“I can’t be this simple,” Miller muttered. “There’s got to be a catch.”

Monty’s hands swung up to grab Miller’s shirt. “No catch,” Monty exhaled. “You should’ve seen it when Wallace found us.” Monty tugged hard and Miller stepped closer. “Don’t be worried.”

Miller’s eyes lingered on Monty’s lips. “Monty,” he started. 

Monty tipped his chin back slightly and tugged again, his mouth finally meeting Miller’s after all this time. There was too much happening in the dorm for anyone to really take notice of the two of them, off to the side and out of the way, and Monty nearly shuddered when Miller’s hands slipped under the hem of Monty’s shirt. Miller kissed him back slowly, carefully, like he was truly worried that Tsing had broken him and this could break him more.

Monty pulled away slightly, trying to tell Miller that this wasn’t the case, that he wanted to be  _kissed_ , but Miller’s lips chased Monty’s as he took a step closer and pinned him to the wall. Monty groaned as the kiss deepened, feeling one of Miller’s rough hands around his good hip and the other leave from under his shirt to spread out by his neck. Miller kissed him as though he’d been wanting to kiss Monty for ages, and Monty realized with a start that maybe he  _had_.

Maybe Miller had wanted this from the very start. 

Monty couldn’t say the same, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want him now. His hands became restless, sliding over Miller’s biceps and tugging on Miller’s elbows, curving behind Miller’s neck, looping fingers through his belt loops, sliding his hands under Miller’s shirt. 

It was everything a kiss with a soulmate  _should_  be. Sure and perfect. 

 _This is my soulmate_ , Monty thought blissfully, breaking away to rest his head backwards against the wall. “Miller,” Monty exhaled. Miller didn’t pull back like Monty had but instead nosed across Monty’s chin, kissing his way back toward Monty’s throat. 

“Nathan,” he murmured. Monty shifted under his hands. “My name…”

Monty cupped Miller’s cheek, tugging him up as his chest heaved for air. “I know what your name is,” Monty said with a smile. Miller dipped in and rested his forehead against Monty’s. There was still so much going on in the dorms but all Monty could focus on was this moment, this kiss, this boy. “ _Nate_.” Miller’s breath caught in his throat and he rocked forward ever so slightly, causing Monty to grin. “Would you rather me…”

“Yes,” Miller exhaled. “Yes. Yeah.”

“Nate,” Monty whispered. 

And then Miller was kissing him again, and Monty was kissing him back. 

Yeah, freedom tasted sweet.

* * *

There wasn’t time for kissing when the delinquents were fighting back. 

Monty and Miller moved in tandem so easily, though. Jasper teased them about being soulmates, some good comic relief as they were fighting for their lives. Monty and Jasper had always known what the other was thinking and could finish one another’s sentences, but they couldn’t move in sync other than their special high fives. Miller and Monty, though, they could.

“Gotta be a soulmate thing,” Jasper pointed out when Miller caught something Monty tossed his direction without even calling out to warn him. 

They knew each other’s steps before they were taking them. They checked on one another when each bout of fighting was over. They poke and prodded their wounds trying to figure out which belonged to who so they could tend to it.

But there wasn’t time for kissing. 

Then Maya was there and running out of oxygen, and Bellamy was there saving Maya’s life and shouting that he needed a pen, a marker, something to write with, and then Bellamy was scribbling  _safe_  onto his skin frantically. 

“Clarke,” Miller murmured to Monty as he watched in fascination. 

Monty arched an eyebrow. “You never told me,” he said.

“I was distracted,” Miller said. “Hey. Bellamy and Clarke are soulmates.”

“You’re lucky you’re so good looking,” Monty said, elbowing Miller lightly with a smile. 

* * *

It was the end of the world and Miller wasn’t answering. 

Monty searched his skin again and again and again and Miller wasn’t there. Monty had lost him in the fray and hadn’t heard from him and Miller would’ve found a way to respond. And Monty was terrified. 

He worked hard to distract himself, working with Clarke and Bellamy to hack the Mount Weather system.

“He’s okay,” Bellamy said to Monty quietly. “You would know if he wasn’t.”

“I can’t think about that now,” Monty said sharply, typing frantically. Because they knew Fox was dead, and so many others had been drained, and Monty needed it to stop. “I can’t think about him now.”

“Look, he’s–Monty,” Bellamy gestured to one of the screens. In the corner was Miller struggling against his binds, tugging hard and trying to escape. “He’s…” Bellamy trailed off as Monty stared.

Because Miller wasn’t okay, he was restrained. And if Monty didn’t crack this system soon then Miller was going to be drilled into, drained, and thrown down a trash chute. So he worked, and he cracked the code, and Bellamy and Clarke irradiated Mount Weather together. 

* * *

She might not’ve been Jasper’s soulmate, but losing Maya was painful and awful and horrible. Jasper hissed at Monty, his teeth bared and his soul broken, and Monty couldn’t say sorry enough.

He stayed with his best friend as long as he could before Jasper snapped at him, forcing him to leave, and then Monty was sprinting through Mount Weather to find Miller. They collided moments after they found one another, arms wrapping tightly around each other in relief. Monty was shaking, his heart broken from what he had to do, broken for his best friend, and Miller held him tightly.

“You’re okay,” Miller said as they rocked. “You’re okay.”

“Jasper,” Monty croaked.

Miller pulled back to kiss Monty’s forehead, to kiss Monty’s cheeks, to kiss Monty on the mouth. Monty’s breathing slowed slightly, focusing all of his attention on this kiss that could steady him. “We won,” Miller told him quietly. “We won, breathe.” 

Monty buried himself back into Miller’s chest, wishing it could be that simple.

* * *

The way Miller understood it was that Clarke wanted to leave. 

She’d been forced to make so many decisions that ended up in death and she just wanted to distance herself from it, from everything they’d been through, everything she’d done to keep the people she cared for alive. While Monty and Miller and the other delinquents had been trapped inside the mountain, Clarke had been on the outside working with a commander of the Grounders to get their people out. The commander had betrayed them which forced Clarke’s hand, and she wanted to leave.

Monty had been the one to convince her to stay. “If you need to heal,” Monty had said, “no one here is going to stop that. If you need to leave, then you need to leave. But you have people here who love you.” He looked toward Bellamy then, his face and arms wearing matching scrapes to Clarke’s. “And people who love you."

Her soulmate was here. Half her soul. So she stayed. 

Monty and Miller moved into their own quarters, separate from everyone else. David, Miller’s father, thought maybe it was a bit too fast. But when Miller revealed that they were soulmates, David smiled so bright that Miller had to look away and then changed his mind at once, celebrating the fact that they should live together.

Monty, he was a little more broken than Miller was. He’d been shut out by Jasper and was struggling with the fact that he’d been the one to allow the system to irradiate the mountain. 

“You did what you had to so you could save us,” Miller murmured at night, pulling Monty flush against him when he’d wake up with a nightmare. “He’ll come around.”

The nightmares didn’t fade right away, but Jasper did eventually come around. He grieved and mourned and pushed people away, but Raven chipped at his angry exterior and Miller tried to strike up that easy friendship they had on the Ark, and Jasper slowly accepted Monty’s apology and they grew back together.

* * *

Before the winter came a Grounder approached camp requesting an audience with Skaikru from the commander, and Bellamy and Clarke went off together. “Train with Lincoln,” Bellamy said to Miller before they left. “Start training the other delinquents too. They say it’s a talk for peace, but we have to be cautious.”

So Miller started training again, waking up early and sparring with Lincoln for an hour or so before others would join in and he’d teach drills.

Miller would return to his and Monty’s room exhausted, collapsing on their bed on his stomach with a groan. “Another long day?” Monty asked as Miller heaved a large sigh, wishing he could melt into the mattress. Monty climbed onto bed with him, straddling Miller’s hips while working to get his shirt off. “Tell me all about it,” Monty said as Miller worked with Monty to get his shirt off.

“Monroe’s got a pretty good punch,” Miller murmured, sighing in relief this time as Monty’s fingertips danced across Miller’s back. “Caught me off-guard.”

Monty nudged a bruise that was blooming by Miller’s shoulder blade, knowing he must have one on his back as well. “This one?” he asked, pressing it carefully.

“Lincoln flipped me.”

Monty laughed before bending down to kiss Miller’s bruise. But then he got distracted and pressed another kiss to Miller’s back, this one closer to his spine. “You used to get bruises,” Monty said before pressing an open mouthed kiss to Miller’s shoulder. Miller had a nice back and Monty wanted to kiss it all over. “It’s how I figured it out. That you existed.” Miller looked over his shoulder at Monty. “I thought someone had been hurting you.”

“Just guard training,” Miller told him. Monty kissed his shoulder another time before pressing his knuckles into Miller’s back to massage his knots away. “I knew about you for a long time,” Miller said with a groan as Monty dug into his back. “You used to get dirt under your nails. And you’d write equations all over your arms. Oh—fuck, baby.” Miller groaned another time, the sound a little higher and a little breathier than before.

“Baby, hmm?” Monty dipped in to kiss Miller’s spine again.

“ _Monty_ ,” Miller breathed. Monty twisted his hands another time and the sound Miller made was so dirty that Monty felt it in his chest. “Feels so _good_.”

Monty tried not to smile, but Miller couldn’t see him anyway. “I know some other stuff that feels pretty good,” Monty told him, still massaging Miller’s back. “That is, unless training’s exhausted you too much.”

Miller rolled and had him pinned to the mattress in seconds.

* * *

On their journey to have talks of peace with the commander, Agro Station survivors had been discovered. Monty found his parents, both alive and well, and cried in their arms as he hugged them tight. Miller stood by with a sheepish smile feeling warm and bright watching Monty reunite with his parents. Jasper had found his family too, and there was joy throughout the camp.

“I want you to meet someone,” Monty said after they’d cried themselves out. “Nate,” he called, waving his hand over.

And then Monty’s parents were hugging him too. “You’re the boy who set up the call,” his mother said as they squeezed him as though he was their own son. “So we could talk to Monty back in the beginning. Thank you so much for that.”

“He’s also my soulmate,” Monty said casually.

There was a twinkle in Monty’s father’s eye. “Soulmate, eh?” He hugged Miller a little tighter after that.

* * *

Days bled into each other as the seasons changed and Miller fell more in love with Monty as the time went by. He was a romantic at heart, anyway, and try as he might to not fall in love with him, Miller was hopeless. Miller couldn’t imagine a life without Monty by his side.

They’d get through their days working across camp from one another by scribbling notes into their skin and get through their nights tangled together in their room.

Tonight Miller had gotten off early and everyone was celebrating Bellamy and Clarke’s return from making peace negotiations in Polis so Miller and Monty slipped away without batting an eye. Octavia noticed but winked as they hurried hand in hand down the hallways back to their quarters.

There wasn’t a reason to rush, they just wanted to lay there together. They shared lazy, languid kisses and drank each other in, tasting moonshine on each other’s tongues. There was no reason to hurry these days, as they weren’t fighting for their lives, and so they took their time.

“I want a tattoo,” Miller murmured into Monty’s throat after a while. Monty laughed and Miller grinned into his skin, peeling back only slightly. “Lincoln said he knows how to give them.”

The Grounders approached soulmates a little differently. When they were little they'd get one tattoo wherever they wanted. If a set amount of time had passed before they found their soulmate then they could get more, but if they did find their soulmate than all tattoos had to be decided upon together. (Octavia had one on her back she hadn't even seen until they were on the ground.)

“What could you possibly want a tattoo of?” Monty asked, shaking his head. “Because it’d be  _my tattoo_  too.”

“I know,” Miller said. “That’s why I’m telling you now instead of later.” He cupped Monty’s cheeks and tugged him closer, kissing him on the mouth. “Latin,” Miller exhaled. 

Monty smiled, still shaking his head. “You’re a nerd,” he whispered.

“Sorry, would you rather I get binary?” Miller asked. Monty laughed and Miller’s grin widened. “Just something small,” Miller continued quietly. “A word or two.” 

“Mmm,” Monty’s hands snaked around Miller’s hips, darting under his shirt. “Like what?”

“I don’t know yet,” Miller admitted. “Sometime like  _we continue_ , or  _we go_.  _We persist_. But none of them are particularly… eloquent, I guess, in translation. So I’m still thinking.”

“Oh, crap,” Monty said suddenly, sinking down onto their bed. Miller pulled back, looking confused as Monty sighed and shook his head as though he was disappointed.

“What?”

“I just realized I’m in love with you,” Monty murmured. Miller let out a breathy laugh as Monty smiled. “ _Crap_. I was really hoping this soulmate stuff was bullshit.” Miller was unable to hide his grin at Monty’s teasing smile, it was hurting his face because of how wide it was, and he dipped in to kiss Monty desperately. 

Miller murmured it back into Monty’s mouth. _I love you, I love you, I love you._ When their smiles were too big to keep kissing, Miller settled down by Monty’s side and held him close, nosing into Monty’s throat and pressing lazy kisses there until they fell asleep.

* * *

“What’s that?” Raven asked as Monty sauntered into their workroom late the next morning. Monty rolled his eyes as Raven grinned, gesturing toward his neck. “It’s unprofessional to show up to work with a hickey,” Raven told him.

“It’s not my hickey,” Monty answered.

Raven’s grin widened. “Gross. Remember when you didn’t believe in soulmates?”

Monty thought about waking up in Miller’s arms this morning, their words from the night before still settling into their skin. He sat down and got straight to work, remembering the way Miller nipped at Monty’s chin, the way his perfect hands gripped at Monty’s hips, the way his heart somersaulted in his chest when Miller pressed a soft kiss to Monty’s forearm where he scribbled equations when he couldn’t find paper fast enough and said, _here, here, here’s where I knew you were mine_.

And where Monty kissed him back on his arm, the first place his bruise had swelled up on the Ark, _and here’s where you were mine_ , he breathed back.

And then Miller kissed Monty’s forearm again, a faint scar still there from when he clawed into his own skin when trapped in a cage. _Where I knew I was yours_ , Miller whispered against him.

Monty kissed Miller’s shoulder, the first gunshot wound that had him worried. _Where I was yours_ , Monty whispered in response.

“No,” Monty finally answered with a smile. He couldn’t imagine a life before the one he had now. “I don’t remember that at all.”


End file.
